The king and his broken crown
by MrTrappdykaren
Summary: Nathan doesn't like it at the asylum, and all therapists trying to make him admit his lover was a bad guy.. they can fuck off. His health is getting better, but it doesn't go fast. But when Warren Graham starts visiting him daily, his life takes a turn for the better. Slowly he forgets about all his pain, but will new feelings take over instead? Grahamscott (jefferscott TALK)


"Let's talk about Mark"

"I don't want to"

"I know that, but we have to"

"No, we don't"

"Yes, Nathan.. We do"

"I don't have to answer all your questions"

"But this is an important part of your health"

Nathan chuckled, and stared at the therapist on the other side of the table

"Oh, yeah, So you can give me more medicine..."

The lamp in the room was too bright, it gave him a headache. It felt like someone was in his head, it had long nails and it scratched the inside of his scalp. Trying to dig itself out. The light was horrible, or maybe it was the pills he had been forcing into his system the past weeks. Yeah, it must be, he had started to feel weak and shaky as well. It must be the pills. All the fucking pills, the disgusting medicine.

The therapist sighed.

"For how long did you know Mark"

No answer

"Before you started at Blackwell?"

"no"

"Ok, so you didn't know him before Blackwell.. good start. How did you get to know him?"

Nathan just stared at her, His snow white face was emotionless and those crystal clear blue eyes had no light left. He was leaned back in the chair, and his head slightly tilted on the side. His mouth was slightly open, and his throat was dry. Every time he said something it was like rubbing sandpaper against his vocal cord.

"I were high.." he wheezed "and Mark was drunk. He sat outside the dorm.. Just staring into the air. When I walked by he smiled at me, asked me to sit down. At first I refused and said bad things to him.."

"Like what"

Nathan smiled "I said that I didn't wanna sit beside a pathetic old failure like him, and that he didn't belong here cause he was just as moral and right like everyone else"

"And then?"

"He said he was going to prove he wasn't a failure, nor moral or right. So I sat down and we started talking about that dark and horrible place called _our mind_ _s_ _"_

"Your mind is not horrible Nathan, it's just that your brain is sick."

Nathans smile vanished and he stared down his lap. He swallowed some saliva to hydrate his throat.

"Did you and Mark Jefferson become close after this"

Close. Such a funny word to describe what they were. They were so much more then close.

"He was the only one I had.."

Nathan's head started spinning, and the image of Rachel was glued behind his eyelids. So was Chloe price. Oh, and all that blood. It was his fault, all his fault. He covered his eyes with his hands, but the image would not go away. It just got worse, he could hear their voices. Why, why have you forsaken me Nathan. Why did you kill me? Rachel.. Rachel I'm so sorry.

Then that dark figure hovered upon him. And oh, the pain.

"Nathan? Are you okay?"

He looked up. His eyes were red and shiny. He didn't cry a lot these days, just when the voices came. While clearing his throat he wiped his tears.

"Yeah, ehum.. next question"

The therapist looked sceptically at him, then she continued

"Did you and Mark have a sexual relationship?"

Nathan froze and he remembered that day that he and Mark got drunk together. The day Mark had laughed at his jokes, caressed his skin and touched him in ways no one else ever had. That day Mark had made him feel something else then self hatred and anger.

"He loved me..."

Nathan whispered

"No.. Nathan.. He didn't"

"Yes.. he did" Nathan stared at the table in the middle of them, keeping them apart from each other.

"he used you, and you know that. He wanted your money and he only saw you as one of his toys, he didn't love you only because he slept with you"

Nathans eyes quickly went from the table to staring right into the therapists eyes

"And what the actual fuck do you know about that, huh? I mean, Where the fuck were you when I needed help? You just have me more and more medicine and played with my health cause it would make me feel better. But guess the fuck what, missy, It fucking didn't." He leaned forward over the table, and his eyes dug through the woman in front of him "you stupid fucks were the ones killing me while he were the one keeping me alive, so let's stop pretend to be a fucking saint and talk shit about the one that helped me while you were chilling in the lunchroom, dealing pills to random kids without even fucking knowing anything about them or their problems"

He stood up and marched towards the door

"You retards are the real monsters"

He grabbed the door handle, but it was locked

"You can't leave yet"

"let me the fuck out"

"Nathan, I need you to listen.."

"I SAID; LET ME THE FUCK OUT" he screamed and started tugging and kicking the door to get it open, and when the therapist tried to get him off he pushed her down on the floor and screamed at her to not touch him. With threatening steps he walked towards her laying on the floor. She screamed for the guards and the door smashed open. The pain that went through his body when the guards forced his arms behind his back, and kicked his knees to get him down on the floor, was horrible. He screamed and he saw them. He saw them standing there, staring at him getting the punishment he deserved for killing them. And he cried when the drug was shot into his body by the needle that was dug into his neck. But then.. everything went black. And he could finally feel peace again.

xxxxxxxx

The morning after was pain, just like any other day. Waking up cold and sweaty, limbs tied to the bed and body shaking from all the drugs. Everything was blurry and the light pierced Nathans eyes. Everything was spinning, and his head hurt. The voices had come back again, which meant that soon it was time for more pills, more medicine.. more drugs. His throat was dry like a desert and swollen up, it was hard to breath. Almost impossible. He needed water.

"S—someone" he wheezed under his heavy breath

No one heard, I mean he didn't expect anyone to but he gave it a try. After waiting for about half an hour, he gave up and closed his eyes – hoping he would get any sleep.

Then the day went on like usual. Some nurses came into his room, gave him medicine, untied him, he got to go out to meet the other patients, the voices disappeared, everything just went quiet. It was soothing, but those idiots over at the ping pong table always made so much noises. He had beat the crap out of them a couple of times and they have kinda learned to stay quiet when he's in the room. But sometimes they could whisper, and whispers were almost worse then words. You heard them clearly, but you can not hear what they say.. just this annoying, high sound. Like a mosquito or something. This place were almost like Blackwell Academy. Except it wasn't. It wasn't alike when it comes to appearance, not at all. But the people there were here. There were nerds, Idiots, Athletics, crazy idiots, popular patients and then there was Nathan. The king. He would always be the king, wherever he went. He had to be the king, who else were going to put up rules and decide what's okay and not okay.

No one liked him though, he knew that. He didn't have respect, people were just scared of him… Just like in Blackwell.

The day continued with activities, activities which Nathan, obviously, didn't participate in.. Then it was time for everyone to get their medicine, more activities, then therapist time for those who needed it. And they had decided that Nathan indeed needed them. But they always ended the same. He getting angry, sad, depressed, devastated you name it, and lashed out, beat someone up or tried to kill himself. The medicine helped him but it wasn't going fast. And no one were allowed to visit him. He was too dangerous. He missed Victoria, he missed her so much. And Kate, och holy shit he missed Kate. If he would ever meet her again he would hug her and probably cry his heart out for everything he had done to her. He regret it so, so much.

After therapist time everyone were supposed to go into their room and sleep, but he didn't know how it went since he's always lashing out and stuff. He just knows he never endures a whole therapist thingy.. whatever it's called. But he knows he's gotta get better, he must. He's gonna get some new medicine and they all really hopes it will help.

The days passes fast were he is, it has now gone about 3 weeks since the therapist had brought up Mark. Today they're gonna try again, and he's trying to get prepared. He has been taking his new medicine for about 2 weeks now, and he's actually starting to feel less angry. Sure the voices are there, they still haven't left him. But he hasn't beat anyone up so bad for a while now. He just gave a guy a punch in the face for about a week ago, but he could honestly just suit himself after pushing himself in front of Nathan in the cafeteria line. But the nurses said that "he did at least not try to kill him, so it's an improvement".

The snow white corridors almost look identical. But he has been here for… he can't even remember.. 7 months now? He knows his way around this place, walked these corridors so many times.

He stops by a door with a sign saying "Dr. Martinez". Gently he knocks on the door and he can hear how the lady inside asks him to open. So he does.

"Hello Nathan" she says with a smile on her lips "how are you?"

Nathan walks in and looks himself around in the room. Still that annoying goddamn light.

"I'm.. I don't know, I don't feel so much"

"But you're not angry?"

"No, I guess not.."

Nathan sits down on the other side of the table.

"well, that's good. Means the medicine works.. Has someone informed you about todays subject?"

Nathan looks down in his lap and sighs

"Mark"

"How do you feel about that?"

"I.. don't know"

She nods and takes out a few papers from her bag.

"Last time we talked about Mark, you defended Mark and said he did love you-"

"He did, or he didn't, he just liked me, but.. not enough I guess"

"Mark, in fact, did have feelings for you but he would never have let you get between him and his plan. If you did, he would've killed you; and that's not what I call love."

"Wait what? So he didn't use me? Were you lying the last time?"

"No, but we recently spoke to him and-"

"You visited him?" Nathan smiles a bit and in excitement he leans forward

"Yes, but.."

"Can I meet him?"

"No, Nathan.. that's-"

"Why, why can't I meet him? I want to meet him, It can make me feel better isn't that what you want"

"Nathan… You're sick, and he's a part of what made you lose your grip of reality. You two can never meet again, I'm sorry..."

At first he tries to laugh it off. She's lying, she's so lying. But when she doesn't laugh or smile back, just looks seriously at him, his heart drops like a stone. He leans back in the chair, the smile is totally wiped out and he just stares blankly at the table in front of him. His head is spinning.. Never meet again? no.. no.. He must meet him.. He loves him. He loved Nathan.

"I.. uhm.. need a moment"

He stands up, walks over to a wall and leans against it. Slowly he sinks down to the floor. He can't cry, He should be angry but he isn't. This feeling is so weird. He thought accidentally killing his best friends was the worst pain he would ever feel, but.. this.. this feeling was impossible to describe. He was just empty. Hollow. His heart didn't beat, it couldn't, it was broken.

It was hard to fall asleep that night. He just simply couldn't. He stared at the ceiling, tried to focus on something else..but all he could see was Marks face, smiling at him, hearing his voice saying he has done a good job. Hearing his voice saying that he was so proud and that he was a good boy.

After a while he gives up and walks over to the window. The moon is shining beautiful tonight, and the stars. He wishes Vic was here. He needed her more then ever.

Something warm strokes against his cheek. He brushes away the tear and but it just comes more. After a while he's sitting on the floor again, crying his eyes out. His head feels heavy, like he was going to fall asleep, and his chest is aching. It feels like something was creeping inside of him. Welcome back good old Depression, you were not missed.

The following weeks were hard for him. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep and his energy was just gone. The king was dead, and all that was left of him was his broken crown.


End file.
